Jade
by SliverOfExistence
Summary: A stormy night at Godric's Hollow, Hermione has a feeling something bad is about to happen...


Do you think that people just fall in love with each other and then live happily ever after?

Well, if you do, I have to disappoint you by telling you that there's no such thing in real life as fairytale-endings. Trust me, I know. Love can be a great thing, I'm not saying that it isn't, but almost 50% of every marriage ends up with a divorce. Not that mine did. We really lived a fairytale-life, and planned to grow old together and tell our grandchildren about our adventures. But then the war came, and my beloved Harry was taken by the Dark Lord. Wiped away like all the tears I shed that night.

Have you ever heard "Brown Eyed Girl"? That was our song. Harry sang that to me, the night before we met Voldemort. The night I told him I was pregnant. A real little pessimist, wasn't I? I could've told him when we came back, but I figured that it was better if he knew.... if he wasn't coming back. Sometimes, being pessimistic is a good thing.

She has the same jet black hair as her father, maybe a little less untidy. And because of her emerald eyes, Remus suggested that I should call her Jade. Jade Potter. It has a nice ring, hasn't it? I'm sure Harry would think so too.

Our little house outside Godric's Hollow seems so quiet tonight, but I'm used to it. Every other night is the same. And even if it's dark and I've always been afraid of the dark, I'm not scared. Ron will protect us. And if he doesn't, Dumbledore will. But I don't doubt Ron's word. He promised he would look after us. 

Yet, there's something in the glow of the fire, or the sparkle of Harry's eyes in the photograph, that makes me nervous. Maybe this night isn't like all the other nights after all. There's something here that doesn't seem right, and I rise from my place in the armchair to lock the door. When it's done, I check that all the windows are closed even if it's October and too cold outside. Why should a window be open in the middle of the night, and when it's raining?

I return to the fireplace, and even if all the windows are checked and the door is locked, I can't help but feel that there still is something wrong. But with Voldemort out there, nothing in the world can be right. He killed Harry and Ginny and even Tonks, so what is there to prevent him from killing me and Jade? A mother and her infant.

Ron, is my immediate thought. But is he? After all, Fidelius killed James and Lily. But Pettigrew betrayed them. Ron would never betray us. Or would he?....

Stop being ridiculous! Ron is your best friend, he would never do anything to hurt you, I angrily say to myself. But something inside of me says that Ron haven't been himself lately, and I know it's true. But Ron would never... no, I'm just being stupid. Ron is Ron and will always be Ron, a little clumsy and silly from time to time but not ievil/i. To be evil, you need to be weak. And Ron was never weak.

Jade is sleeping peacefully in her cradle with little blue flowers on it, and the look of her makes me relax. My thoughts about Ron was just a prank played by the shadows of the forest. Nothing strange, really, I've always been afraid of the dark.

As I watch my daughter's sleeping form, I fall asleep. And I dream of Harry, his jet black hair, his wonderful green eyes, Lily and Jade's eyes... And we laugh, and run through the dark forest, the Forest of Death, were he died... But still, we laugh, laughing because we now it's just a dream, and we want to enjoy it.

Something, or someone, wakes me up. Not yet, I want to moan, just five more minutes, I'm having this wonderful dream and...

iSomeone's in the house. /i

Suddenly, my dream isn't that important anymore. I sit up and listen. The wind moans, Jade's breathing, I'm breathing... and someone's walking up the stairs. I get up, walking as silently as possible over the wooden floor, and locks the door. Fear threatens to break through my wall of instinct, and I lean against the door, breathing heavily but quiet. This isn't happening. No one, except Ron and professor Dumbledore, knows we're here. So who could it be?

The 'someone' is on the second floor now. I hear his (or her) rattling breath, just a few metres from the closed bedroom door. Soon, very soon...

"Don't hide from me, Hermione, you know you can't hide forever..."

I have to supress a gasp escaping from my lips. It's the voice which've been haunting my dreams for the past 21 months. Lord Voldemort's voice.

He's outside the bedroom door now. I know that he knows we're in here, but still, convinced by some ridiculous instinct, I press my body against the door. He will not get in. He will not take Jade's mother. And he will not take Jade.

I hear him mutter "Alohomora", and I back away from the door, with only one thought running through my mind. He will not take Jade.

"Well, well, Hermione, I told you that you couldn't hide from me."

It's only a whisper, but I can hear him as if he stood next to me. I stand beside the cradle, and as I look into those red eyes, all I see is pure evil. This 'man' is mad, but I suppose it was expected. But that's me, isn't it? I'm just as naïve as usual.

I realise that my wand lies downstairs on the kitchen table. Moody would kill me if he saw me right now, forgetting the first rule an Auror learns.

"You'll never succeed", I say, and my voice doesn't even tremble. But I'm scared.

He laughs at me. 

"Stupid girl!"

Jade has woken up, I can feel the cradle moving beside me, but I don't dare to look at her and calm her down. I just stare at the 'man' in front of me, and I know that I will die soon. But he will not take Jade.

"Avada Kedavra!" he roars, and a green light escapes from his wand. I am dead before my body falls backwards into Jade's bedside table, but I know what's going to happen. Voldemort doesn't know that another prophecy was made a year ago, involving Jade and him. I can only hope that she'll survive this night, maybe with a scar on her forhead. Maybe the history will repeat itself. Maybe.

**

Just a story I thought of writing. I'm usually an Hermione/Sirius-shipper, but H/Hr is always nice. Now, I want you to press the little button that says "Review". It's not a request, it's an order.


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